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Chapter Text

A young man swaggered up to the gates of the former Royal Palace of Xianle. The once-familiar capital city was left in ruins by the war's conclusion. The journey from Yong'an had been long, but the young man did not tire.

The gates and wall were covered in dead, overgrown vines: thick, jagged, and splintering. Although treacherous in appearance, they made it easy for him to scale the high gate to get inside. The sky had been thickly clouded since he had first entered the limits of the abandoned-once-metroplolis, its deserted streets a far cry from his childhood memories. Despite the gray sky, he could tell daylight was quickly siphoning away. The sun had set. A resolute smile curled on his lips, his single visible eye determined as he hauled himself and his belongings over the wall. An easy feat with a tall, athletic body such as his.

Jumping down, he turned to the ruined Palace. No lights shone from within. The young man frowned as he pressed on. /He has to be here. He just has to be/.

The expansive grounds were covered in dead grass, damp, and reeked of decay. The formerly lush, luxurious gardens were now a mud pit, not a bloom or green leaf in sight. Cracks were etched onto the side of the dilapidated palace, and any fountains, statues, or ornamentation were shattered, destroyed, or lost.

This was not a place to live.

He wandered the desolate grounds, searching for any signs of life until it got too dark to see. The clouds obscured any moonlight or stars above. He made his way inside the palace, slipping into a side entrance, most likely a servant's corridor. It was nearly too dark to see. The young man’s movements were slow, cautious, and silent. It led up to a narrow staircase and eventually into a foyer, or perhaps the palace's throne room.

~~*~***~*~~

Once upon a time, in the flourish and bloom of that fallen kingdom of Xianle, there lived a crown prince. This crown prince was peerless, a darling of the heavens, not one person could rival his beauty, his grace, or his prowess with a sword, but perhaps most importantly, not one person could rival his goodness and kindness.

He was the only person in that whole wretched kingdom who would be kind to a dirty, malformed street urchin. On that fateful day when Taizi Dianxia Xie Lian caught lowly Hong’er, preventing him from plummeting to his death, Hong’er’s fate was sealed. He would follow this crown prince eternally. He followed him through the rest of his childhood, through his teens, through war with Yong’an, and even through his imprisonment by Yong’an after that final losing battle. He never lost faith in his ascended crown prince.

Being a prisoner was hard, but more difficult still was hearing the fate of his beloved crown prince. Rumor has it, that after Yong’an’s triumph and Xianle’s defeat, Xie Lian was banished from the heavens, transformed into a monster, shackled, and damned to crawl in the ruins of his fallen kingdom for eternity as atonement for his transgressions against heaven and his people.

Hong’er, although not surprised that the heavens would be so cruel, was anguished after hearing the supposed fate of his beloved crown prince. If only he had been there… if only he had fought a little harder… dodged that arrow that bled him weak… what could he have done?

He vowed that he would escape the prison camp, find Xie Lian, and help him, however he could.

Being young and determined, he survived the harsh conditions of the camp, until one day, he could slip away- slip away, and never return. He was at least twenty now, he reckoned, maybe older.

He journeyed alone in the wild, surviving on what he could find. He would wander into villages from time to time and would work in exchange for food and shelter. This pattern repeated many times until eventually- finally - he made it back to Xianle.

~~*~***~*~~
The throne room was empty. He moved on, trekking ever deeper into the palace.

Sometime later, Hong’er broke out in goosebumps. His hair stood on edge. His animal instincts sensed another being was near. He could hear soft, rumbling breaths. Hong’er approached with bated breath. In the near pitch-black, he confronted a looming beastie. It did not attack him, it merely remained still.

"Are you the crown prince of Xian Le?" Hong’er questioned. Hope and awe swelled in him.

"Go away." The creature growled softly.

"Why should I?"

"Leave." Replied a harsher tone.

"That answers neither of my questions. I am not here to hurt you if that's what you're worried about. Nor am I afraid of you."

"Get out!" The beastly silhouette arched its back and bristled like a cat. Two large, yellow eyes shimmered faintly in the dark.

"Please, I have traveled a long way to ask for work. I wish to serve you. If you are indeed the crown prince, then you should want a loyal servant." Hong’er dropped to one knee as he stated this.

Confusion overcame the creature. Though it was not cruel by nature, it was a beast now, cruelty should be its nature. It should kick this strange man out into the night. Maybe chop him up or eat him alive, and make those ghastly rumors true. This human should be afraid! Instead, he was asking for work!? It didn't know whether to laugh or to cry, not that this beast had the capability to do either.

Caught off guard by the man's request it stuttered, "N-no. I have no need. This palace supplies all I need to survive."

Obstinate, Hong’er rebuttalled, "But if you want-...".

"No! Stop! I do not need anyone!" Its growl was more sharp and pained. The silhouette of the large head turned away.

"Okay." The man rose to his feet. "Then, at the very least, may I stay? Night has fallen, and it would be dangerous to set out again now."

"Very well. You may stay." The beast turned, stalking away on its four clawed feet, tale rippling around and brushing against the floor in front of Hong'er.

Behind him, candles flickered to life, illuminating the corridor leading to the opposite wing of the palace. Hong'er took that as a cue to follow. Turning back one last time, he could still hear the soft footfalls of the crown prince, but his form had completely dissolved into the shadows.

Chapter Text

Hong'er roused the next morning at a time indeterminate. Gray daylight streamed in through the window into the obvious servant's quarters he was situated in. Still, this was the nicest bed he had slept on in his entire life. The mattress was clean, with no pest-ridden hay or ancient grime to be had. Despite the chilly, damp air wafting in, he wasn't cold. The blankets were thick and dry. He nuzzled into them, pulling them tighter around himself. His dreams were also so sweet! In his mind's eye, he dared to dream that he was a bed warmer to his crown prince!

Oh! But why linger on such forbidden fantasies when he could be serving the crown prince directly? And with that thought, he vaulted out of bed and quickly dressed. His clothing was old and coarse, not nearly as warm as the blankets had been, not that he wasn't used to the cold by now.

Hong'er scowled at himself while looking in the mirror on the wall. His reflection scowled back. It was an ugly expression. Trying his best, he fingered through his unkempt hair and applied bandages over his cursed, red eye. He wondered if he should just bandage his whole face. Spare his highness the disgust of looking at it. He bandaged it, completely covering his cursed eye, and as much of his face as he functionally could, only leaving the area around his mouth and his nostrils exposed. /Ugh, maybe I should have invested in a mask.../

Once fully put together for the day, Hong'er retraced his steps from last night, seeing if he could either find his crown prince or a kitchen.

Shivering a little, he quickened his pace. The Palace, in its dilapidated state, was drafty and unseasonably cold. It was only just early fall, the first frost not nearly upon them so soon, Hong'er had traveled lightly, preferring to take his art supplies with him rather than his winter garments. The last stretch of his trek back to the ruins of Xianle was done over the summer anyway. Perhaps, he should search first for an extra outer layer.

It was not long before his exploring found him a kitchen. Lighting a fire in the stove would keep him warm. He also hoped he could find or scrap together something to use as a meal for himself and his highness. His supply of food had run out the previous day.

°•○~●~○•°

After hunting around for a time Hong'er pulled together a sizable stash of dry scraps around the inside of the castle to make a fire with. The wood he could find outside was damp and slime-ridden; it would never do for a fire.

Using the tinder box he carried on his person he lit a fire in the old stove. A shutter ran through his body as he stoked it, trying to warm himself.

Clawed footfalls scraped nearby in the exterior corridor. Hong'er stilled in anticipation.

"Why are you still here?" The cursed prince's mangled voice cried in.

"You said I could stay." Hong'er replied smoothly.

"That was last night. Why aren't you gone?" The voice deepened to a growl.

"Oh, but I never said how long I'd stay. And, you never gave me a reason to leave anyway."

These strange young man's responses befuddled the beast. "Aren't I enough of a reason to leave?" That gruff, mangled voice postured.

"You are enough of a reason to stay. As I said last night, I came to work. I /only/ wish to serve you."

"Haven't you heard the story? I'm a dangerous, disgusting monster!
And not only that! The weather here is eternally dreary, damp, and dark! Nothing grows outside! There's no art, or music, or laughter! Everything's in ruins! There's nothing here but a big damned beast!" Xie Lian howled and snorted and growled terribly.

Hong'er calmly stepped back from the orange light of the fire, into the gray light of the corridor. He looked up, perceiving the beast without the shroud of darkness obscuring his view.

He knew it was going to be bad, but he could feel his blood boil at the sight. Swallowing his anger and keeping a neutral expression, Hong'er beheld in the beast.

The long, serpentine creature glared at him with bulging, golden eyes that resided too far apart from each other. The face was wide and black, flat and pulled like an angry, fuzzy salamander. Its flesh grayed out around the neck, gradually whitening to the maggot-flesh lining of the body. It had four, long spindly legs, with a long, spindly black set of claws at the end of each leg. Its mane was long, black, and dreadfully tangled and dirty with a similar tuft dangling at the tip of a scorpion-like tale. The creature had to be six -no- ten times longer than an average human, and all of it was the pitiful ex-crown prince.

"I don't think you’re a monster or a beast. If you are, then I am as well. The weather is bearable with a lit fire and a warm cloak." Hong'er suppressed a shiver at this. He was no longer by the fire nor had he found a cloak yet. /Maybe he should just take a blanket from the bed…/

He continued: "I can make art; try to make music, try to make you laugh. Whatever you need... I only apologize that this lowly one may not be as good as you are used to..."

He was cut off by a bitter sound. It may have been laughter if the beast was capable. The beast's head leaned close. Hong'er could feel its hot, moist breath on his face. The beast opened its fanged maw to retort, but it stuttered and stiffened. Those too-wide-set eyes squinting, as if trying to focus, to see better.

"Your face... what's wrong with your face!?" It hissed in fright, recoiling and arching like a startled cat. "THE DISEASE! You’re not...." Xie Lian hyperventilated.

"No! No... shh, calm down your highness. It's not- these bandages- I… I have been deformed since birth. It.. It has nothing to do with the war." Hong'er admitted. He looked down and away from his highness, bringing his hand up to cover his bandaged face.

The beast quieted at this. No longer in a panic, more guilt rained into Xie Lian's flooded conscience. "Oh." He sighed mournfully. "You are nothing but a fool if you stay. You may stay. Just, /stay away/ from me." The beast conceded. It turned around to trudge back to the depths from wence it came, but, it was just then that Hong'er's stomach chose to articulate its hunger.
Hong'er felt heat rise underneath his bandages. The beast stopped in its tracks. "Do you know where to eat?" It sighed.

"N-no... I was just about to try and scavenge food for us..." Hong'er's voice died out towards the end, feeling foolish.

The creature sighed again. "Follow me. You may eat there whenever you need, as long as I am not also there. These ruins are imbued with a significant amount of spiritual energy. I am not privy to how it works, or where it comes from entirely. It will keep me inside, and will not let me die. Therefore, it provides the bare necessities for life to continue and sometimes provides lost wanderers a way out. This is the last thing I will show you. After this, you /will/ stay away from me." Xie Lian's tone was hard.

Chapter Text

The dining hall Xie Lian showed him was small. The table was filled with plain-looking yet hardy food. Hong'er entered alone as Xie Lian departed to the deeper innards of the palace. He helped himself to some meat and some (vegetable?) congee.

Not to be picky or overcritical of this food, or any, for he had survived off of garbage and scraps before, but this food was impossibly bland. It tasted like absolutely nothing. The textures were all right, but there were no tastes.

He only intended to take as little as he needed, leaving the rest for his highness, but out of curiosity, he found himself trying little bits of everything. And it all—the meat, the congee, the buns, the veggies—tasted like nothing. It was off-putting.

After a secluded dining experience, Hong'er cleared away his bowl and chopsticks.... he wondered if he should just leave it, or if the palace’s spiritual energy array would take care of it. He saw none of Xie Lian's discarded bowls or cutlery, and princes did not do their own dishes...

He left it, as a test.

His body felt warmer now that he had eaten, though he still desired an outer layer of some sort.

/The Palace provides the bare necessities for life to continue and provides lost wanderers a way out./ He also considered the candles that lit up, illuminating a way to a room in the servant’s quarters to sleep. Wondering, he asked the palace gently, "Is there a cloak anywhere I may use to stay warm?"

No response. He stepped outside of another door, one he did not use to enter the dining room, back into a different part of the palace, a part that he had not been to yet. He explored, and wandered around, keeping an eye out for any signs that his inquiry was answered.

He saw it then. Around a darkened corner, a little candle-like flame appeared. He smiled, following the wisp. A little startled, he discovered that there was no candle, just the flame. During his time as a soldier, and in his travels, he had heard of ghost flames. He never thought he would ever see one.

He supposed, in a sense, he was amongst the gods and ghosts now, a mere mortal, but no longer in the mortal realm. Spiritual energy, ghost flames, a cursed prince, he was far removed from the lives of common folk.

More ghost flames illuminated the hallway, creating a trail to follow reminiscent of the night before. They guided him through the servant's halls, far deeper into the palace than he had ever traveled up to this point. The trail stopped at a little door. He quietly slid open that door.

Perhaps this room was once magnificent. Perhaps the most beautiful room in all of the royal palace.

It was now a total wreck.

Deep claw prints etched over the once opulently decorated walls. Fine silks and wools, cottons and linens were slashes across the floor. Furniture smashed, pottery cracked, and torn paper littered the room.

In the middle of the devastation slumbered the prince. It was sprawled and slumped as if it just dropped to the ground as soon as it entered. Hardly looked to be a comfortable position.

The great beast lay at the foot of what probably once was a magnificent bed, now reduced to a heap of chipped woods and strewn fabrics. At least, that is what Hong'er could tell from the faint light emitted by the ghost fires. There were either no windows in this room or any windows had been completely shut.

The ghost fires trailed over to a trunk, only partially covered in debris.

Striding in silently as a cat, Hong'er made his way over. Quietly, he dusted off the rubble. It was unlocked. Slowly, he lifted the top and revealed an assortment of fine, winter cloaks. From what he could make out, the lavish garments were made of fine silks, wools, and furs. They were exquisitely embroidered, some with silver and gold threads. A few even had pearls or other precious gems sewn into them.

Hong'er grimaced. He hoped he was not dirtying any of these with his hands. He sought a plain one, more suited to himself.

He eventually found a plain, all-white wool cloak trimmed with white fur around the neck. It was still far too nice for him, but he supposed none of the former servants had left their belongings when they fled. He hoped his highness would not miss it too much.

Gently, he closed the trunk, stood to his full height, and examined the cloak. He had not noticed the creature had noiselessly stirred and was looming right beside him.

"What are you doing? GET OUT!" roared the voice of the beast to his side.

Startled, Hong'er tripped and landed butt-first, the cloak sprawling out over him.

"I TOLD YOU! STAY AWAY FROM ME!" The beast was enraged.

Hong'er stared at those too-big, too-wide yellow eyes reflecting ghost fire light. He began to stutter, "My... my apologies... this lowly... lowly one..."

"WHAT!?" The beast snapped, a growl emanating from his throat.

"C-cold... was cold. The ghost fires... th-they led me here. " Hong'er lifted the cloak. "S-sorry, your highness. Th-this lowly one w-will return it at once."

"Keep it! You have it now, don't you? Keep it and leave me be! I never want to see you again! GO AWAY! SCRAM!" Xie Lian turned and stomped back to its spot before collapsing again. Hong'er scrambled to his feet, booking it out of there. He did not stick around long enough to hear the low, wretching heaves the beast made once he left. In a human, they may have been sobs.

Hong'er dashed back the way he came, clutching the cloak close. He stopped once he returned to the dining room. He threw the cloak over a chair and likewise collapsed.

Earlier, his prince although did not seem happy about him sticking around, was at least willing to tolerate his presence. Now, Hong’er seemed to upset his highness to the point of resentment. Hong'er did not think he could bear it if Xie Lian hated him. On that sickening thought, he shakily stood up again.

Dabbing the tears that blurred his vision he stared at the table. His bowl from earlier was gone.

He did not have time to think of that little peculiarity.

Hong'er grabbed his ill-wrought cloak, fastened it around his shoulders, and made his way back to the servant's quarters. He grabbed the meager bag of supplies with him, most of which were supplies for art and painting, and set off to explore the palace once more and take a good look at it in the gray light of day.

He had his work cut out for him.

Chapter Text

Several weeks had passed. Hong'er was exceptionally careful not to run into the prince again. He likened himself to a ghost fire: always apparently present to help but only seen when needed.

He spent his time cleaning up wreckage in the palace, repairing what he could, and storing away what he could not. Eventually, he would ask the ghost fires to guide him and see if there were any tools readily available for the more intensive refurberation projects. If what he required could not be found, he would trek to the nearest town and try to trade for those tools.

It was the end of a long day. Hong'er wiped the sweat off his brow as he sat up from his latest restoration task. This once charming room, delicately furnished, maybe a lady's tea room, had been discovered by Hong'er as a sea of broken porcelain. He swept up the mess as best he could and salvaged the few tea cups that were not shattered. One of the many labors he had put his time into, he was finally making good progress in the room. The furniture and cushions were largely undamaged. Soon, it may even be fit to serve tea and host guests once more.

He would clean up this palace even if it took 800 years, making it once again a paradise fit for his crown prince.

He left the room in a quiet hurry. The gray daylight would be fading soon.

Swiftly and silently, he returned to his chambers and retrieved his art supplies. The tools were crude, many of which were self-made. Any meager funds he made on his journey back to Xian Le were spent on - besides the bare minimum of staying alive - inks, paints, and pigments.

~~*~***~*~~

In Yong’an’s war prisoner camp, Hong’er would spend his spare time drawing in the dirt. It was calming, clearing his turbulent mind. He had only one subject in his mind’s eye and naturally would sketch Xie Lian from memory sporting various regalia, swords, and poses - surrounded by flowers. Of course, many of these portraits were furiously swept away due to the disgraceful inferiority of the final product. Nevertheless, he kept drawing when he could, and improved through the years.

Some of the other prisoners noticed his peculiar habits and deft hands. He was recruited to tattoo his fellow inmates when they smuggled in supplies. Some had even attempted to teach him to read and write.

Hong’er’s astute mind and eidetic memory took easily to literacy, though despite the steadiness of his hands - his reproduction of written words was illegible to anyone but himself.

~~*~***~*~~

Hong’er rolled up his sleeve, revealing a sprawling tattoo he gave himself back in his prisoner days, and commenced working on his favorite side project.

The words of his prince the day after he arrived at the palace had struck him. Nothing grows outside! There's no art, or music, or laughter! amongst other things… Hong’er was determined to fix what he could. He could remedy the ‘no art’ problem the easiest, abating the others would take time and considerable creativity.

Xie Lian was regarded as the “Flower Crowned Martial God” in his brief tenure as heaven’s darling. Hong’er could not yet break the heavenly emperor’s cruel curse of banning even flora of all things, but he could find a way to adorn his prince’s habitat with flowers once more.

On his palette, he mixed white paint and proceeded to use it to paint simple white flowers on a bare spot on the wall where the original decor was seemingly scratched off. Hong’er would end each day by finding such a bare patch and painting various beautiful flowers he recalled seeing in temples dedicated to the Flower Crowned Martial God, blooming at the roadside or in gardens, and even the flowers he had placed in the hands of those godly statues as a child.

He did not know if Xie Lian saw his work or even cared, but, if he did, Hong’er hoped it would spark some little joy within the prince to know that he still had a believer, or at the very least demonstrate his reverence towards the prince, carrying on the tradition of offering flowers he started as a child.

He relaxed into the work, finding a steady rhythm. He climbed higher and higher onto the high wall of the main corridor, supporting himself atop a pile of broken furniture. It was a particularly precarious setup, but as long as he focused he knew he would not lose his balance. He had done this several times during his stay, assembling furniture to climb on to paint in the high places even his imposing stature could not reach.

He would work until daylight faded out and it was too dark to see. A few times, he attempted to work by ghost fire, though the faint, little specters were dimmer than candles. He could feel the strain on his eyes and decided he was worth more to his highness with undamaged vision. That, and the fact that materials for candles and torches were few and far between, meant his work ended once night fell.

Suddenly, a door slammed open nearby. A disgruntled beast trudged out, probably on his way to the dining room… oh no!

Hong’er did not have time to pack up and scram before the beast’s head rounded the corner…

In a startled movement, all too quickly, Hong’er tumbled toward the ground. Quickly, he threw out his hands to catch himself, but the timing was a tich late and the angle awkward. A jolt jerked through his body as his wrists made an audible crack!

Pain followed in the next instant.

Hong’er shrieked, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! You won’t see me again!” as he ran opposite the beast, coddling his aching wrists, back to the servant’s quarters.

Chapter Text

The short winter days dragged on. It was nearly impossible to carry on working with battered hands and broken wrists. Hong'er did what he could. Progress was slow and often frustrating. Frequently, he spent days huddled in bed.

He wrapped his hands and splinted his wrists as best as he could in bandages each morning. The first daylight after the incident, a pile of fresh bandages had appeared outside his door.

It was just what he needed. He was unsure if this was the palace's doing, as these were just what he needed most—not wanting to spare the bandages from his face wrappings—or if they were left by the crown prince himself.  With a foolish glimmer of hope, Hong'er prayed it was the latter.

Occasionally, while out and about in the palace, he felt a presence and heard the prince lurking nearby. He never crossed into Hong'er's path; both aware of the other, they carefully made sure never to interact with the other, not even by accident.

~*0*~~*0*~

Early on this winter day, Hong'er gave up attempting to work, although he was too awake and unsettled to return to bed. He wandered around the palace. At this point, there was very little of it he had yet to see. Mostly the rooms around Xie Lian's private quarters had been avoided in an attempt to prevent himself from getting even more on Xie Lian's bad side. Today, he wandered near them again, feeling useless.

The sun must have been bright today; it tried its hardest to scorch through the ever-present oppressive clouds. This was the brightest Hong'er had ever seen the halls. In the glimmering almost sunshine, Hong’er’s restless legs led him to a part of the palace he had yet to traipse into. This ‘new’ foyer was grand, though not the main foyer granting entrance to the throne; the ghost of its former opulence told of its great importance.

The grand doors shutting off the adjoining room were damaged, as though rammed into by a bull, but not completely kicked in. There was no sound but Hong’er’s own breathing. The prince was nowhere around. Curiosity piqued Hong’er’s interest.

His tall, willowy form slinked through the cracks; on the other side revealed a magnificent library of finely bound tomes and scrolls lining the veritable maze of bookshelves, stacking high towards the ceiling.

Hong’er’s elastic mind and eidetic memory allowed him to absorb every character taught to him by other soldiers imprisoned with him, and he picked up many more along the way in his journey back. However, his education was still extremely rudimentary. There were many words he could still not read as he perused the shelves, each one labeled with the genre it carried.

He supposed many were court documents, records, histories, and references. He wondered how many were poetry, literature, plays, or martial arts-related. The prince was famous for his love of martial arts and dedication to cultivation. He wondered what else, if anything, Xie Lian liked to read.

Hong’er desired to read too. He was interested in many things, especially the skill of painting, and wished to expand his knowledge and not remain an ignorant bumpkin forever.

On an impulse, he grabbed a magnificent red and gold scroll off of one of the shelves. He sneered; there were just too many characters he could not read! It frustrated him, so he tried to put the scroll back, but his bound hands and painful wrists made him too clumsy to do so.

He let the scroll drop to the ground and rolled his eyes. He would tend to the infernal thing later.

Ruefully, he wondered if there was anything in here for children or anything to aid himself in learning to read.

He continued to saunter around for some time, perusing the shelves, seeing if there was something—anything he could gain from.

The day began to fade; another long winter night of boredom and self-loathing awaited him.

Heading for the door, Hong-er suddenly stopped in his tracks and quieted his breathing.

The looming presence of the beast was right outside the door. It was not moving. Hmm… Hong’er supposed he should see if there was another way out.

Just as Hong’er was going to begin silently stalking away, he heard a hoarse, rasping voice call out: “Human. Are you in there?”

Hong’er could not not answer his prince. “Yes, your highness. I am in here.” He sank to his knees as he spoke, shaking a little.

A few beats of silence. Hesitantly the beast followed up with, “What is your name?”

Now, Hong’er was very hesitant. He had thought of a clever name to give to the prince should he ever have asked, and leave his shameful past identity behind. Hong’er no longer felt worthy of that name nor had the heart to ask his highness to call him in such a shameless manner. Instead, he found himself saying, “Your highness, this lowly one has no name. Refer to this one as Wu Ming.”

He could not see it, but the beast on the other side sneered before regaining its composure. “That’s cruel. Surely, you have another way of referring to yourself that’s not Wu Ming?”

“No. Your majesty.” Hong’er said, biting his tongue as he lied.

“Enough of these your highnesses, your majesties!” Xie Lian snapped. “I am no longer a prince, nor worthy of any such title!” The beast growled in annoyance.

“Hear me, nameless, I cannot help but feel your… current predicament, is in some way my fault.” The beast's voice softened at the end of the sentence.

“No! I—”

“Listen!” Xie Lian bellowed. “I told you to stay away from me, threatened you, scolded you! Yet you stay here! And you have stayed out of my way! I startled you! You were afraid of me, terrified! You injured yourself! And yet you stay! Why do you stay!? Why are you here!?”

“Your high-”

“Stop!” The beast growled mournfully.

Hong’er dropped the address. “It is as I have told you. I only wish to serve you, to work for you, to humbly be your loyal servant.”

An exasperated sigh was the only response.

Hong’er stood up, but just as he took a step closer to the door, he was met with: “Stop! Stay as you are do not come closer! I only wish to apologize for your injuries. We will remain as we were, careful to not cross paths. You may continue to do as you wish. I will not bother you.”

Xie Lian continued: “Although, may I just inquire what were you doing that you were halfway up a wall?”

“I was painting.”

“Painting? What?” Xie Lian replied bewildered.

“Flowers…” Hong’er said sheepishly.

"..."

Chapter Text

“Fl-Flowers?” The beast’s voice came out uncertain. “Show me.” Sternness returned to its tone. “Come out; do not look at me. I will follow behind you.”

Hong’er obeyed. His legs were bloodless and tingly from kneeling too long. With a loping, uneven stride, he opened the door. Keeping his gaze locked firmly to the ground, careful not even to catch a glance of his prince, he led the way.

His fall had taken place in another wing of the palace entirely. On their walk there, Hong’er’s posture very much resembled a wilted flower. Head down, shoulders tense. Their trek was taken in silence. The only noise audible was the shrill scraping of the beast’s claws across the floor some meters behind.

Hong’er had not been back since the day after the accident. Only having returned to pick up the fallen art supplies and salvage as much spilled paint and pigment as he could.

Still looking only at the ground, his body now bowed in reverence, Hong’er motioned with one splinted wrist to the top of the pile of broken furniture he used to scale the high wall with.

“Up there.” Hong’er bit his tongue to resist the urge to call Xie Lian your highness. “That flower painting is up there, right up by the ceiling. Forgive this lowly one if it is not up to standard.

Hong’er did not see it, but Xie Lian rolled his eyes in a similar manner to someone he used to know at Wu Ming’s “not up to standard.”.

The beast stood on its hind claws. The elongated salamander-serpentine torso straightened as the front pair of black claws straddled the wall with a heavy thunk around the painting of the little white flowers.

The sun must have already set. The twilight gray thickened, making it very difficult for Hong’er to see fine details of anything. He wondered if those two great golden eyes made his highness’ vision more perceptive in the dark.

Xie Lian was squinting and squinting harder, moving his too-wide face back and forth, vying to bring the supposed flowers into focus, but to no avail.

“Wu Ming! the beast growled in a deep tone. “Bring me a torch or a candle. It is too dark to see.“

~~~~~

Hong’er raced back, precious candle in hand. He dropped his gaze as he rounded the corner to the corridor his highness dwelled in. Dropping to a kneel once more, he lit the candle and offered it in a deep bow to his prince.

Xie Lian took the candle gently in one claw. He started at the flame, shifting to his hind legs in order to bring another claw up to cradle the flame. Moments turned to minutes of stillness and silence.

Hong’er, not daring to look up, inquired, “I-is there a problem?”

“N-no..” The beast’s voice was distant and breathy. “I just haven’t felt warmth in a very long time.”

Slowly, the beast shifted back up. Squinting and holding the flame near the wall, but not too near as to cause a fire, the exquisite little white flowers came into view.

Xie Lian gasped as some lost emotion tried to well up within him.

“Flowers! These are roadside flowers! What are they called?” The beast’s voice took on a bouncy air as his stomach tickled, as if little insects were flying inside. Xie Lian suddenly felt very light on his claws.

Hong’er did not know what to make of the tone shift. “I know not. I was never taught their name.”

“Ugh, me neither.” The beast yapped. “I had forgotten about flowers.” The excited agitation calmed down as the prince stared at the flowers more. He stared for a long time.

Hong’er stood in the darkness, face still to the floor. He bundled himself in the plain wool cloak he had pilfered from the prince's room on that harrowing occasion. It kept him warm, but the cold floor chilled his feet through his boots. He did not complain.

Xie Lian stared until the candle burned out. He finally spoke. “Why did you paint them up here?” Its voice still sounded far away and a little dazed.

“That patch of wall was smooth and plain. I have been practicing my painting on such expanses of wall. If that is displeasing, I dare not con-”

“Have you painted any more flowers?” The beast asked intensely.

“Exclusively.” Hong’er replied. He dares not paint the true subject of his heart- yet.

He heard his highness leap down, his footing lighter than it usually sounded. “You must take me to them!” An urgent desperation flavored its voice.

In the pitch blackness, Hong’er’s mind raced. “Yes! This lowly one will! Should I retrieve another candle or perhaps a torch? I find it difficult to see by ghostfire light…”

A beat of silence.

“Tomorrow, do you promise? When it becomes light again? That you will take me to see them?”

“Of course.” Hong’er knelt again.

“Good. Meet me at the dining hall once you awaken. I will be waiting.”

~~~~~

So that is how Hong’er’s morning began. As soon as he rolled out of bed, he never unwound his bandages the previous night, he grabbed his cloak and trodded quickly to the dining hall, not wanting his highness to wait any longer than necessary.

He entered and found no one.

Not surprising, as his highness strongly wished to not be seen. Hong’er knelt, stating, “Your humble servant has arrived.”

“Get up!” The beast commanded, agitation in his voice.

Hong’er stood up but kept his face and gaze downwards. It was muscle memory at this point.

“Now lead me to the other flowers you have painted, please.”

Hong’er did as he was asked. He led his highness to the painting he felt appropriate to show first.

“Up here.” Hong’er pointed high once again to a spot above windows that must have once overlooked a grand orchard.

He did not see but heard Xie Lian clamber and scrape up the wall.

“Oh, oh?” The beast huffed. “These are plum blossoms!” The beast’s tail swept across the ground repeatedly. Those trees used to bloom just like that…” an aching sadness returned to the voice. “What’s next?”

Hong’er grimaced. He did not mean to dredge up potentially painful memories. “This way, please.”

Hong’er took Xie Lian to the little tea room he had been working on. Low on the floor, in a dim corner, he had his painting. Anticipating the prince’s needs, he had brought a candle.

The beast crouched low, candle in hand. It started for a while, trying to bring his eyes to focus. “Oh? Are these orchids?”

“Yes.”

“They were my mother’s favorite.”

The minutes ticked away in silence as the beast stared for a while longer.

They ventured on once more. Xie Lian kept the candle, stumbling around in an awkward three-legged swagger to cradle the flame close to its body.

Hong’er brought him to the throne room next. This was one of the most, if not the most, demolished rooms in the palace. However, there was a clear expanse of wall off to the side of where the thrones were gutted from. The bright gray daylight hit it in full.

Xie Lian exclaimed, “Bamboo! Wow, you surely painted a lot of bamboo!” That tail began beating and sweeping the floor again. With a little leap, the former prince squeaked, “More, show me the next one!”

“The next one might be a little tricky for this lowly one to take you to.” His first flower painting was a test. A practice, meant for nobody’s eyes but his own. He was going to paint a nicer version to complete the set eventually.

“Please?” The tone was almost begging, the tail stilled. A high-pitched whistle like a crying dog sounded. It was impossible to resist.

Hong’er led the beast through winding corridors. They got quite narrow at points, and he was worried Xie Lian would get stuck or not be able to proceed. Although his prince seemed to have no issue trailing behind him.

The servant’s passageway led them extremely close to his highness’ quarters. Hong’er walked farther than he needed to, but as he did, he pointed to a little patch of wall on his left illuminated by a small window on his right.

“Ooo! Chrysanthemums!” Xie Lian guessed. The wagging, beating tail started behind him again. “The four gentlemen! I get it!” The beast's voice was fluttery and light. It might have well been laughing if this form allowed it to.

“Hey, hey! Do you have any more?”

Hong’er’s self-control slipped. The passageway was so tight here. Turning the unbandaged side of his head ever so slightly, he peeked.

“You—your highness! You’ve shrunk!” Hong’er gasped in awe.

“You! The beast growled, and as it did, it grew to its original imposing stature. “I told you not to look!” The corridor quaked and groaned as the beast turned and ran in the opposite direction out of sight, heaving, growling, and snarling all along the way. Its large form scraped and bumped into the walls and ceiling, leaving a bloody mess and more destruction in its wake.

Any delight that had been fostered by seeing the painted flowers had been crushed by the weight of despair being seen as a beast brought.

Chapter Text

Hong'er was as upset as he was curious. He inadvertently chased away his highness once again, just as their relationship began to improve. But, for a few blissful hours, his highness seemed to experience emotions other than anger and self-loathing. Strangely enough, his form had noticeably shrunken - at least until he grew again in his shame and distress...

Cultivation, spiritual energy, curses, blessings... Each a foreign realm to this mortal young man.

Hong'er lay awake in his bed. He had little else to do but ponder the nature of the curse that shackled Xie Lian.

It seemed to mitigate itself when the prince experienced positive emotions. Would bringing joy to the prince cure him? Or he would shrink out of existence? Fear panged Hong'er heart at the thought. He also felt himself grimace at the thought that he would never be able to bring his highness that much joy. At least, not yet.

He fell asleep and dreamed he shrunk his highness down to the size of his palm, where he could hold him close and keep him safe. Upon waking, he doubted Xie Lian would like that very much...

First light the next morning he returned to the library. Once his hands were fully healed, he would return to painting flurries of flowers in a fury. Until then he would push himself to research something, anything that might be useful in abating, or even removing the curse altogether.

Hong'er devised a very systematic approach. First, he figured out the organizational scheme of the library by genre. Art, poetry, geography, military strategy, and the like he considered all but useful - to be ignored for now. Based on illustrations and the few words he knew, he honed in on sections dedicated to medicine, cultivation, ghosts, and heaven. Stacking up scrolls and tomes as tall as himself he got to work.

First, he would find an illustration, scrutinize its depiction, and scour the surrounding text for characters he knew. When he found some, he would see if he could then puzzle together what the unknown characters around them were from context.

The work was tedious and progress was excruciatingly slow, and on many an occasion, Hong'er would end his research day by storming out of the library half mad with frustration. Only the drive to be doing something useful to his highness kept him going through the slog. Hong'er learned to take breaks to cool his mind so as to be able to work longer. He would take time to examine illustrations and art kept throughout the library. Mostly, to find inspiration on what to paint for his highness and sometimes to study the techniques for trickier artistic concepts.

A couple of times, he recognized characters in the description of an art piece that matched the ones in the more relevant passages he vyed to understand. The additional context gave him more ideas as to the meaning of those characters.

Weeks dragged on like this. The prince never made an appearance, not even once. Hong'er never heard him pass through the halls, never heard him in or around the dining area. He wondered if his highness knew his schedule and merely avoided him, and worried the prince had not left his room since...

One day Hong'er decided his hands and wrists were healed enough to start painting again. After some warm-up sketches in those narrow servant halls, he began painting his flowers once again.

His hands tired quickly from disuse, and he knew putting strain on them would only injure them once again. So he decided to split his days, mornings painting and afternoons researching until darkness overtook him.

Eating his breakfast, Hong'er fretting about the whereabouts of Xie Lian came to a head. He decided to stake out, hidden from view, and see if his highness would come to eat.

Hong'er waited all day. Hong'er waited all night. There was no sign of the prince. Hong'er's lips drew into a fine, sour line as he mulled over what to do.

"Whisps!" He cried out, "Please, take me to the prince, discreetly."

Little pale ghost fire sprung into sight. They led Hong'er winding through the palace the way they had originally taken him to pilfer a cloak from his highness.

Hong'er shuttered, recalling the last time he was here. His heart pounded and he could feel cold sweat break out. He quieted his footfalls as much as possible and nearly stilled his breathing as he crept through to the prince's room.

Chapter Text

Hong’er took a deep breath, steadying himself and trying to quiet his rabbiting heart as it thumped, thumped, thumped away in the cage of his ribs.

He slid the door open.

The room was as it had been, dark, dirty, and demolished. The air was stale and acrid-smelling. Hong’er stepped through the threshold.

“What are you doing here? Get out.” The command mirrored the first time Hong’er had so foolishly wandered in. The voice crying out to him in dull anger was hoarse and lacked force behind it.

Hong’er approached the decimated bed where the cursed prince slumped, strewn prone, in no apparent position at all.

“Why won’t you just stay away from me?” The beast’s voice was pitiful, frustrated. If it were human, it would be close to tears.

“Concerned. I’m concerned for you…”

“Why?”

“Well…” Hong’er paused. Each beat of his heart pumped more reasons into his mind as to why he should care. He decided to keep it simple and practical. “I-I have not seen you around, nor felt your presence. Your high-... you, have you been eating? Do you need or want anything I can pr-provide?”

“Does it matter?” Xie Lian’s voice came as a dry, hollow whisper. An admission of defeat.

“Your highness!” Hong’er dropped to his knees beside the former bed. He felt his throat start to close up and his eyes heat up and blur over.

The beast sighed, as if to say “What?” Its face was turned away from Hong’er. It feebley writhed, attempting to curl in on itself. “And don’t call me that,” it hissed.

“So you haven’t eaten? When was the last time you ate!? Have you not eaten since?” Emotions welled up from within Hong’er, spilling over in his alarm.

Xie Lian replied with another cool, defeated, “Does it matter?”

“YES!It very much does matter!” Hong’er shouted through his sobs. He grasped at what once was a beadhseet to steady himself, throwing himself down into a deep bow, he continued to weep and cry out. “I don’t want you to die! I can’t let you die!” As lore had it, dead gods' souls disappeared. No eternal life and no entering a cycle of reincarnation. Xie Lian would be gone.

The outburst rattled the beast, forcing open its bright eyes, forcing it to draw in a deep breath. Wu Ming’s words echoed around its mind, reminiscent of the ones howled at him last time it had done this to itself. Last time someone visited…

“Wu Ming.” A pause. “I can’t die.” The beast did not know if the words were meant to be a comfort to the man or to itself, but they were meant to be a comfort somehow.

An awkward few minutes passed until the man’s sobbing calmed.

Hong’er looked up from where his face was buried in his arms. His one visible eye from under the bandages, swollen and bloodshot from bawling, regained a determined gleen.

“What…” his voice cracked, “do you mean you can’t die?” Hope germinated once again within Hong’er. It was a complicated feeling, nearly having been strangled out by despair.

“The curse. I’m no longer a god, having been banished by heaven for my misdeeds.”

The hearth of Hong’er’s anger ignited within him at the mention of heaven.

“I can’t die. I am immortal, still. Damned to this wretched place-eternally- until I… I…” Xie Lian faltered. “Until I... I don’t remember. I am sentenced here for eternity. I cannot cease to exist… no matter how hard I try…”

“NO!” Hong’er interjected as his heart skipped a beat at that last phrase, tremors shuddering through his body.

Xie Lian only sighed again.

“Your curse! What else of your curse?” His voice still shook. “No.. no, no, wait. I will bring you food first! Food and water! Please eat! Then please, please tell me about your curse.”

He could not see the pained grimace the beast made. “Fine. But only bring the broth first.” It remembered the agonizing sensations of jumpstarting a long-dormant digestive system.

Hong’er was off. His fleet feet carried him hurriedly down to the dining hall. He made several trips, hauling as much water, and meat? fish? vegetable? broth as he could carry each trip. The cauldrons hosting each were immovable, seemingly fixed with magic to the table that held them. He could only deliver the liquids in the dainty little bowls that seemed to be in limitless supply. Another odd quirk of the (dis)enchanted palace.

Xie Lian dutifully lapped up each bowl of water and flavorless broth while Hong’er was out getting the next round. It made it very clear that it did not want to be seen eating. The beast could already feel its stomach cramping, being shocked into use after starving for so long. It would be another unpleasant night. But they were all unpleasant. Its life, since banishment, was a never-ending, excruciating existence.

“That’s enough.” It growled after Wu Ming’s seventh trip.

“Wu Ming. Why do you want to know about my curse?” The beast’s voice was very strained. Its stomach gurgled and groaned. It still did not look at the young man.

Would his highness react very badly to me wanting to break his curse?

“Please. Just tell me. What does your curse entail? What else?”

It relented. “Well, uhm… my memory’s a bit poor, and… and jumbled. That might be affected.” Xie Lian tried to remember what the heavenly emperor had explained to it, before bestowing the curse.

“I- I can’t remember…”

“Please, try…”

“Let me finish! Don’t interrupt!” The beast snapped, finally having regained some energy. Hong’er shut up immediately. He slapped a hand over his mouth, not that Xie Lian had registered the action.

“I can’t remember any good things. I could not remember flowers until you showed me your paintings. Even now, I can’t remember them or what they look like. I have to be looking at them directly to really remember. I can’t see images inside my own head. I think I used to… at one point. My vision, I struggle to see too, I think. It was… more acute before. I can’t even recall what you look like. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen what you look like.”

Hong’er remained still and silent.

“I think that goes for many things. I guess. I don’t remember. That doesn’t mean, that doesn’t mean I don’t remember.” The beast’s voice became very quiet, pensive.

In a moment, it continued: “I remember all the harm I’ve caused, of course. I have to. I’m made to. The curse, it’s to ensure I never forget. I never forget how I destroyed my kingdom. I never forget how I killed, murdered. I never forget how I chased away my loyal friends. How my parents chose to kill themselves rather than live with a beast. I might as well have killed them too. I remember how none of my actions ever resulted in a single good thing.”

“That’s not true!” Hong’er felt how his voice rose within him, wild, almost beyond his control. “That’s not true…” he was close to tears again. The logical fallacy was glaring.

Hong’er bit his tongue to calm himself. He was about to yell, scream. Calmly, darkly, delicately, he stated: “That’s not true. You just don’t remember the good you’ve done. I’ve painted you more flowers. When you are are well, this lowly one.. he wishes to show them to you.” It was getting too much for Hong’er to bear, and he did not want Xie Lian to continue spiralling.

“Your hands? The injury I’ve caused you? It healed?” Hong’er could see the silhouette of the beast’s head rise, just a little bit.

“Yes. And you did not cause it. It was an accident. I panicked.”

“You panicked because of me. My form…” The head drooped down again.

“No. I panicked because you told me to stay out of your sight. Your form has nothing to do with it. It never has, and it never will.” Hong’er’s tone was deathly serious.

The silence carried on.

“Leave me. Leave me for now.” The beast’s stomach felt bloated and angry.

Hong’er’s brow furroughed. He did not want to leave his highness alone. Slowly and hesitantly, he made his way to the door. He decided he would give his highness space, but he would check on him every few hours. It’s not that he did not trust his highness, but his prince’s mental state-

“Wu Ming, tomorrow, bring me a little congee, as well as broth.”

Relief flooded Hong’er as he closed the door.

Chapter Text

Hong’er returned at first light. He brought up bowls of water and broth. Next, he would bring congee. Maybe he should look for a basket or some other carrier to allow him to bring up more bowls.

Juggling the two, he brought them to be held one arm as he slid open the servant’s entrance to the prince’s room for a third time with the other. This time, he felt far less trepidation as he crossed the threshold. No voice greeted him. His highness must still be asleep; however, he could hear movement from the bed as he approached.

The beast’s face was hidden within its fleshy coils, however, those coils and black-clawed limbs thrashed about in increasingly violent torrents.

“Your highness…” Hong’er addressed the prince in a quiet voice only he hoped to hear. He pitched his uncertain voice louder, “Are you alright?”

No response, simply more writhing. A little whimper escaped from the beast.

Hong’er swiftly set the bowls on the floor and sped to the bedside. “What’s wrong? Please, how can I help?” his voice grew more frantic. His hands hovered lamely over the beast, unsure what was the matter.

Finally, two molten-golden eyes snapped open, and the flat, squashed-salamanderesque face gasped and heaved before diving back into itself. Ugly retching sounds accompanied the coils, which further tightened in on themselves, the beast threatening to twist itself into knots.

Hong’er realized if the beast was human, these retches would be sobs. Still quivering in panic, Hong’er exhaled. He did not know how to soothe his highness. Maybe he could comfort by….

Hong’er gingerly lowered his hands until he gingerly placed them on the maggot-like skin of Xie Lian’s coils.

The light touch startled the beast, Hong’er reflexively jerked his hands back.

Big yellow eyes on a black face were now very close to Hong’er’s own. He remained still.

“Oh… it’s you.” The beast slouched back down. “Why did you touch me? Don’t touch me,” it feebly protested.

“You were… distressed?” Hong’er’s brain scrambled to explain why he dared touch his highness so casually. That foolish, reprehensible impulse…

“It was nothing. A nightmare.”

“You can dream?” Hong’er had hoped the curse-bleakend imagination would at least prevent nightmares.

“Unfortunatley. Unfortunately, I cannot sleep this curse away.”

“What do you dream of?” Hong’er wanted to kick himself once the words left his mouth.

“I hear the screaming mostly. The sounds of bone breaking and bodies being shredded. Sometimes, for an instant, a glimpse of the carnage I have caused flashes before my eyes.

“Oh…” Your highness, how will I ever be able to comfort you?

A beat of silence.

“Ah-I brought you water and broth. I will fetch the congee next.” It was a lame way to change the subject, but it was the quickest way that came to mind to try and push the thoughts of nightmares out of the beast’s mind.

A deep sigh. “So soon?”

“Yes, it is morning. Should I have brought the congee first instead?”

“No, no, this is better. Just bring a bowl or two of it next. Don’t watch me eat.” It was dour and obviously less than pleased it had to eat again so soon.

Hong’er picked up the water and broth bowls and set them at the foot of the bed as reverently as a priest leaving offerings at a temple. He then turned away from the beast, pacing forward a few steps. A small happiness bloomed in his heart that he was finally being of use in some small way for his prince. He stood, straight and tall, facing the door, ready for any new orders from the prince.

He could hear it slowly lapping up the offerings. They would stop. The beast would sigh, then take a few more delicate laps.

This cycle continued a few more times before a freshly worried Hong’er asked slowly, “Your-... Excuse me, does it displease you? I can bring you the congee or something different…” the man wondered if he should plan on purchasing spices and herbs at nearby village when he would inevitable have to fetch more art supplies… spring should be coming soon, with a little planning…

“No. Eating after not for so long upsets my system. I have to take it slow, or it’s a bit painful.”

Right. Hong’er had gone hungry many times in his life. He remembered the pain, but he endured it, balancing it with the relief of surviving until his next meal. And no non-cultivator could go a month without eating. The pain was probably worse than he could imagine, going so long… And what of the prince’s cultivation? What was the state of it in that hateful form? Could Xie Lian still practice? Was it decaying? Could one regress? There was so little Hong’er knew, this thoughts momentarily spiralled.

“We discovered it the first time I did this. I must go slow. Introduce solid foods slowly…”

“We?” Hong’er could not help but blurt. Were there others in the castle? Those who came to visit? Others who could help. The beast had mentioned it had let it get this bad before; someone must have helped it recover the first time.

“Yes…”

“Who was it? The ghost fires?”

“No. They can’t manage anything coporeal. Too weak.”

“Then, who?”

“...”

Xie Lian stopped talking.

Chapter Text

Greetings!

Sorry to say, and it took some thought to reach this point, but I will be taking a hiatus from this work.

I am currently in three different fanfiction writing events (I keep banana peel slipping into them...whoops), so I need to put my focus on finishing a few of those works first.

I am also at a point in this story where I need to do some more planning. I felt like I had a very strong beginning to this story, but from the start, I had several ideas where I wanted to take it. Indecisive as ever I just decided to write until I hit the crossroads. We are here now, and I need to choose....

So I figure I will be gonna few months, but I promise this fic is still oscillating in my brain.

Fear me, for I shall return!

Thank you for your comments, kudos, and just simply reading along with each update so far!

Cheers <3